Comparisons
by EclipsedofSoul
Summary: You can never move on with your future, if you’re always comparing it to your past...


Comparisons

Summary: You can never move on with your future, if you're always comparing it to your past...

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Chronicles of Narnia, they belong to CS Lewis.

AN: This is an angst-filled one-shot that I just thought of, couldn't stop musing about and then had to write. I'm sure it's been done a thousand times but here's my take.

--

It was like every other train ride she'd ever been on, monotonous and dull with the occasional bump where the track wasn't laid quite right. She'd been on train rides a hundred times, to and from school, to and from town and on other outings. The train ride itself wasn't so bad, it gave her time to just let her mind wander, let herself go so she didn't think of anything. But the wait at the station was the worst.

Its boring tiled walls and grimy stone structures were nothing compared to what she had once glimpsed from within its walls. There was no way trains passing could ever look as appealing when a beautiful sight of Narnia couldn't be seen flashing through their windows. The wind whistling through the station wasn't as comforting as when it was created by magic and was transporting you to your magical other world; in fact it felt colder and more numbing.

She sat on that same platform and looked all around her, hoping for some sort of glimpse, any sight of the wonderful place. Things never happen the same way twice, Aslan had said and so a part of her told her that she would never see Narnia this way again. But then she wasn't going back and that made it different so maybe she would just be able to see it from here. It was all she ever dreamt of at night.

Well, partly, as her true dreams were of her being transported back and swept away by the magical land, welcomed back by all her friends and someone who was more...

But that was never going to happen and she needed to get over that, even though the majority of her had accepted it. Still, she saw Narnia everywhere and when she sat here, at the same bench, waiting for a similar train she couldn't help but hope.

It was like when she was walking through a park, the green grass underneath her feet and the trees swaying nearby. With the light breeze on her face and the rustling sound of the leaves she could close her eyes and almost imagine herself there. She could picture it all in her head, walking through the glorious meadows with the trees for company and any creature wandering about.

Then there would be a sound, a bicycle bell or a shout from another human and she would open her eyes and be rudely shoved back into the world that she had to call her one and only now. It broke a little piece of her heart every time but still, if she was ever walking on her own, she couldn't help herself and let her mind run wild.

School was another experience entirely and although it was completely different it reminded her of her lessons in Narnia even more forcibly; the differences highlighting the complete opposites of the two. Lessons in England were slow and boring, girls only having to be taught so much and sometimes not even properly. In Narnia you were taught by tutors with specialised subjects so they could answer your every question and teach you anything you could ask. She'd had the best of tutors, as was her status as queen, but the same technique was used in all of Narnia; all a child had to do was ask a question and they would be taught everything they wanted to know on that subject. And in Narnia the lessons had been fun, the teachers so excited to impart their knowledge that you couldn't help but feel excited at being taught it; in England sometimes even your favourite subject was a chore.

And the few lessons they were taught would not be helpful in the world outside the classroom. What they learnt would never be practical outside of school, not in a way that would help gain employment or give purpose to lives. Everything that was taught in Narnia was routed in that, in purpose. If there was something to be learned there was always a reason behind it, and always a way it would be useful to you.

Useful and reasonable were also adjectives that could be used to describe any inhabitant of Narnia, well, apart from supporters of the white witch or Miraz but they were a minority; it definitely wasn't the minority that they could be applied to for English people. Creatures all had their different strengths but on a whole they were friendly, warm and loyal. Humans here were pretentious and self-centred with regards for only what they wanted or what entertained them.

This especially pertained to boys, who would only give you their time of day if they thought you looked good enough or they wanted to make fun out of you. Or at least that was her experiences with boys so far. It would be mean to write them all off based on the example of a few but the few examples here were sorely lacking compared to the examples from Narnia. How could an English boy who got his own confidence by attacking yours and thinking you'll thank him for it later, compare with men? Even though the same age there was no way Narnian boys could be called that, boys. They were honourable with lean bodies and fierce training, they stuck to their beliefs and they spent time trying to learn yours. They wanted to spend time with you...

But even with train stations that were no longer magical, parks that weren't the earth you longed to see, school without subjects of mythological history that captured your heart and people who weren't who you wanted to be with, there was another thing, another comparison that killed her soul each and every day.

She was different.

Susan Pevensie of England was nothing like Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia.

And that comparison hurt; it hurt the most.

She was no longer confident in abilities, no longer possessing of a sure and level-head that with gentle determination could solve any diplomatic dispute. She no longer wished to see the sun as it rose every day, no longer had its sight to bring new hope to her heart. There was the same knowledge in her but now she believed it with absolute conviction, her belief of things being different, of things being magical long gone and exhausted. She was practical and logical to a fault and rebuffed anyone who challenged her otherwise.

And all she did was compare Narnia and England, everything about them, which was the problem.

Narnia couldn't be compared and yet that was all she was doing; all she could see around her was a shallow, sad wannabe of Narnia's glory. How could dull streets compare with Narnia's evergreen meadows? Or pretentious people with Creatures and sovereigns? How could she compare herself here with who she had once been, there?

She compared herself with that queen and saw herself so differently; instead of an open, caring young women filled with optimism there was now a closed, hurt loner, aged well beyond her years and with no hope of it ever changing.

She didn't want to compare herself, every time she did it hurt like nothing else, and she would find her English self lacking severely, but she couldn't seem to stop. So she made herself into something that could never even exit in Narnia, something that they would never be able to understand there.

And if it couldn't be understood, then it certainly couldn't be compared.

--

So I hoped you liked. Susan is one of my favourite characters and I've always felt she's under-used and not explored enough in the books; the films did a lot for my love of her character and I thought they did a good interpretation of what she would have been like if the books ever expanded on her in that way. This is my take on what happened to her character and it was just something that I could see happening as she's very practical in nature and has deep ties to Narnia. I would love to hear anyone else's views on the subject and what people thought of this story.

Oh, and if anyone's reading this who is also reading _In Element_ there is a new chapter coming to you very soon...


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